Emrys Lawson is an American freelance writer and poet, who lives in Texas with three dogs, two cats, and Riley, the elusive wolf spider. “Writing enables me to explore other worlds and lifestyles from the comfort of home while sitting snug at my desk.”

Short Blurb:

Romance writer, Julia Cole, is a woman who’s unable to trust. French business owner, Alexandre De La Fontaine, is a man who’s not looking for love. A sensual, passionate weekend in a club, far richer and Sweeter Than Candy, erupts in the bustling city of New York.

Excerpt from Sweeter Than Candy, by Emrys Lawson

A Ravenous Romance® Original Publication, release date: January 30, 2014

“Come,” he says, patting the leather beside him. “Come and sit down next to me, so we may talk. I do not bite.” A flicker of a smile passes his lips as he gazes at me with smoldering eyes.

Hesitantly, I walk to the couch, but I sit on the other side intentionally, bypassing the section of the sofa he’s patting. A light chuckle passes his lips, and he cocks his head sideways to peer down at me.

“Okay. So, explain why the arousal state is increased or amplified, as you said, when one is restrained,” I say, squaring my shoulders. “I just don’t see it. You know, for research.”

“Do you trust me?” he asks, leaning closer to my face as he brushes a stray strand of light brown hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear.

“Trust you?” I stammer, pulling back as I inch away from him. “I just met you. I hardly think that’s a fair question, Alexandre.”

“That is a good response. However, we have formed some level of trust between us.”

“Excuse me-”

“You trusted me enough not to leave the office when I entered without a shirt on today. Then, you trusted me even further by allowing me to take care of you, and let us not forget,” he says, licking his lips, “you trusted me enough to let me kiss you.”

“Okay, fine,” I exclaim, rolling my eyes and blushing. “We’ve established trust can be measured on different levels. Now, answer the question. Why does bondage amplify one’s arousal state?”

“It would be best to demonstrate the information you seek in a scene because the full impact will be lost in a verbal translation.”

“I’m not going to do the things I saw out in the common room, Alexandre,” I state, springing from the couch.

He quickly takes hold of my hand. “Do not run from me. I am not asking you to do anything you do not want to do. Now, sit back down,” he commands, guiding me back to the couch.

I sit down and then shake my head. Oh my God, I just let him order me around. Crap. “Stop doing that, Alexandre.”

He shakes his head. “You have it all wrong. A dom can only be in control when transference of power has been granted willingly by the submissive party. And I do not wish to control you or take away your free will. It does not work that way, at least, not for me. However, I will tell you that I am just as attracted to you as you are to me,” he says, lightly caressing my cheek.

“I’m not—” I stammer, but he silences me by placing two fingers over my lips.

“I know what you are thinking and feeling. You are an open book. Would you like me to tell you what I know?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“But of course. You will always have a choice.”

“Fine, tell me.”

“Lie back and close your eyes, and I will both show and tell you,” he says, kneeling before me.

He places both of his hands on the sofa beside my knees. I peer into his eyes. Then I scoot against the back cushion of the couch. Drawing in a deep breath, I close my eyes as my heart begins to pick up speed, racing in my chest.

“I am going to ease my body between your knees, but I will not touch you inappropriately. However, I will touch your arms. Now, relax and breathe,” he commands.

My breath hitches in the back of my throat as his hands slide over my knees, prying them apart. I feel the warmth of his body against the inside of my legs and shiver. My body stiffens as his hands slide down from my shoulders to my wrists, which makes me pull my knees tighter against his kneeling frame. His fingers wrap around my wrists, holding them in place.

“Breathe, ma chère. I will stop if you tell me to,” he whispers, softly in my ear. “You must relax your legs because your knees are digging into my sides.”

The warmth of his breath on my neck makes me shiver. Forcing my body to relax, I pull my knees outward, away from his warm frame. I draw in a deep breath when I feel his mouth lightly brush against the closed lids of my eyes. His lips then trail a path over my cheekbone and down my jaw. I strain and pull against the hold he has on my wrists, which results in him tightening his grasp. Gently, he nudges me with his head to gain access to my neck. When I tilt my head to the side, he nibbles on the nook of my neck and ear. I quiver and cry out.

“Open your eyes and look at me,” he commands. My eyes flutter open, and he smiles. “Was that unpleasant?”

“No,” I say, blushing as I turn away from his gaze.

He releases my wrists and then cups my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. “Did you feel as if you were trapped and could not get away?”

I shake my head and say, “No, because you said you’d stop if I asked you to.”

“So, in other words, you trusted me to do what I said I would do, no?”

“Yes,” I say, staring at his lips as he licks them.

“Do you want me to tell you what I see?”

“Okay,” I reply, moving my hands from the couch cushion.

“Your body tells me that you enjoyed my touch, even as brief as it was, because of the way you responded.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your eyes dilated and the pulse in your neck increased. Plus, your lips darkened and swelled slightly because of your state of arousal,” he says, grinning as he peers down at my breasts. “Shall I point out other factors of arousal you experienced?”

“No, I think you covered them,” I reply turning a crimson shade of red as I hold his gaze. “Are you going to kiss me again?”

He raises a brow and asks, “Do you want me to?”

I nod my head. He smiles and then lowers his head, claiming my lips once again.